The Lie
by Allycat33
Summary: On any other night she wouldn't hesitate. She would barge right into his room, no knocking, nothing to announce her presence. But tonight was different. She stared at his door, her hand raised, ready to knock. She took a deep breath and gave it three short raps. What could have happened after The Satan Pit. AU *Contains smut - 1st chapter*
1. Chapter 1: The Aftermath

Hi guys! Here it is: my first multi-chaptered story that ... wait for it ... I've actually finished! That's right! It's done! And so is its sequel! Wow! I feel so accomplished!

But, to explain a bit before you start. This is a story that I wrote, based off of a one-shot I wrote called Blue Sheets. In fact, half of this chapter is almost exactly the same as that one-shot, so if you've read Blue Sheets, and you read this and feel like you've read parts of this before, it's because you have. But, by no means do you have to read Blue Sheets before you read this.

A little more information about the story. It's AU . . . sort of. . . . I will tell you this: the events of the second half of season two _do_ eventually happen (and yes, that includes Doomsday, sad as it is), but with different circumstances, and Rose and the Doctor's relationship progresses differently. It begins right after The Satan Pit, with what I think could have easily happened after the Doctor and Rose were reunited. And yes, I know, horrible title. But it was the only one I could think of!

So, hopefully you like it, and hopefully everyone stays in character throughout the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, the Doctor, or Rose, obviously. Does it look like I'm rolling around gleefully in piles of money?

* * *

Rose awoke to peace. _Strange_, she thought. No smells that reminded her almost exactly of the time Mickey had blown up his computer. No shouts or exclamations of glee or surprise or alarm. No being thrown out of bed unceremoniously by a TARDIS that isn't being flown properly. Nothing.

She opened her eyes warily, wondering if she was indeed still on the TARDIS, or if it had all been a dream, as she sometimes worried. Mornings like this had been scarce – or rather, nonexistent – since she had left home to travel nearly two years ago.

But, no. There was still the low humming that the sentient ship always made when she was content. The soft, gold glow emanating from the walls. The slight rocking that happened when the TARDIS was simply sitting in a point in space, not moving. But it was strangely quiet. Too quiet.

Rose sat up in her bed. . . . Wait, that was wrong. This wasn't her bed. Her bed had magenta sheets. These were . . . blue. Blue sheets. But that meant. . . . No. It couldn't be possible. . . .

At that moment, Rose was made aware of another anomaly of this strange, strange morning (if it was, indeed morning; it was so hard to tell on the TARDIS).

"Oh. My. God," she breathed, as she pulled up the sheets – the blue sheets – to cover her bare chest. "But . . . that's impossible," she said, staring blankly at the blue sheets – the blue sheets; they were blue! – covering her equally bare bottom half.

She scanned the room and, judging by the clothes strewn about, it really wasn't impossible.

She clapped a hand to her now hanging-open mouth. "We. . . ." She glanced at the other half of the bed. Empty. Well, of course it was. He was a surprisingly light sleeper. "How. . . ?"

_The valiant child who will die in battle so very soon._

Oh, yes. The beast's words that still resonated inside her. It was because of them.

* * *

On any other night she wouldn't hesitate. She would barge right into his room, no knocking, nothing to announce her presence. But tonight was different. She stared at his door, her hand raised, ready to knock. She took a deep breath and gave it three short raps.

Within seconds, the door was whipped open, revealing him in his blue pinstriped suit – what, did he sleep in it, too? – his brown hair as tousled as ever. "Rose?" he said, looking her up and down, concern evident on his face. "Everything alright?"

She felt suddenly self-conscious in the tank top and shorts she wore to bed. She tugged at the hem of her shirt, biting her lip. "I. . . . It's just. What he said. About me." She looked away. "And, well. . . . No, it's not even that, it's. . . ." She looked back up into his brown eyes which were studying her, worrying about her. "I thought I was never gonna see you again."

His face broke into a smile that encompassed everything, crinkling his eyes. "Oh, Rose," he said as he pulled her into his arms. "We've been separated before, though. And how many times have we found each other again?"

"I know," she answered, her arms tightening around his lean form. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the delicious scent of him. "But it was different this time. It was more . . . real."

He let out a breath and closed his eyes. He understood. He felt the same way. Despite how many times they had been separated, how many times they had faced certain death, and come out stronger than ever, this time had been different. If he hadn't found the TARDIS, seemingly by pure chance, it would have been the end of both of them. "But we made it through. Like we always do."

"Like we always will," she said, pulling away to smile at him. The Doctor smiled back, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, both of their smiles fading away as they felt that one small gesture light a spark between them. He leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to her cheek, lingering for a moment. As he pulled away, Rose turned her face towards his and their eyes locked, electricity sparking in the short distance between their bodies. Rose's eyes flickered down to his lips, and that was all the invitation the Doctor needed to press his lips to hers lightly.

The kiss was soft at first, but quickly grew more fervent and passionate as their bodies became alive, and suddenly they couldn't get close enough. Rose pressed against the Doctor, wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands in his hair. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer and still it wasn't close enough.

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Everything ran together, actions melding together seamlessly until she wasn't aware when one ended and another began and everything seemed to happen all at once.

There was heat all around them, coming off in waves, and they stumbled back through the doorway as she clawed at his shirt, tearing it open, buttons flying everywhere. His tie was in the way so she pulled at it until it was gone, his hands finding their way under her tank top, his fingers gliding up her back leaving tingling trails. They broke apart long enough to yank her tank top off, then came together again. She pushed his suit jacket and shirt off and ran her hands over his chest and back, then reached down to undo his pants as his hands reached behind her to find the clasp of her bra and suddenly it was gone and he pulled away, kicking off his trainers, then his pants. Rose shimmied out of her shorts and underwear, and he pulled off his boxers, then pulled her towards him, throwing her on his bed, onto the silken blue sheets. The Doctor hovered over her for a moment before pressing his lips to hers once more and his hands were running down her sides and caressing her cheek and tangled in her hair and cupping her breasts and everywhere all at once and she reached down to stroke him and felt his moan vibrate through her mouth and then he was inside her and her body was on fire and she could see bright golden light tickling the edges of her vision and she reached up to pull him closer and her fingernails dug into his back as she bit her lip, gasping, moaning, and it was so good, so _good_ and he moaned her name into her ear as she gasped his name into his, and then it was amazing brilliant fantastic and she was burning so hot she didn't know why there were no flames, but there was still that golden light blinding her, and her body was trembling as he came and a wave of pleasure rolled over her. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, gasping for breath, as he kissed her again, slow and sweet, then moved next to her, laying on his side to face her.

Rose turned to her side to mirror him, smiling, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. The Doctor smiled back as she scooted closer, pulling the covers over them, and his arms wrapped around her in an embrace. She snuggled into him, sighing contentedly as he stroked her hair, until eventually they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The Doctor stood rigidly facing the TARDIS's main console. He had come out here to busy himself, maybe start working on the wiring to the washing machine. It really was getting out of hand, having to travel back to the Powell estate any time Rose ran out of clean clothes. And it was especially absurd, what with the enormous wardrobe on board just waiting for her perusal, but she refused to use it for some unknown, Rose-like reason.

It was these thoughts of Rose, though, that had him standing there as if frozen. It was a mistake, he told himself. A terrible, awful, stupid, amazing mistake. A terribly wonderful, awfully superb, stupidly brilliant, amazing mistake.

He loved Rose, of course he did. He had known it since their first trip together, when he had found her trapped in a room with the sun shields being lowered and realized that he wished it was someone – anyone – other than her trapped in that room. But he had more baggage than should be possible, a daft old face, and was too old for her, besides. He didn't deserve her, and _she_ deserved someone so much better than him.

He tried pushing her away, holding her at a distance. At first, he'd thought it was working, when she brought Adam along with them. Oh, to be sure, the Doctor had hated Adam, but at least he was closer to Rose's age, less volatile, less damaged. But when she left Adam behind without a second glance, he began to suspect that his strategy of pushing her away might not be working as well as he wanted it to.

Then, when they'd met Captain Jack Harkness, he knew for sure that by pushing her away, he had only made her cling more tightly to him. "He's like you, only with dating and dancing," she'd told him, a pointed look in her eyes. Jack was a substitute Doctor, the Doctor Rose suspected he could be to her if he would just stop being so stubborn and see what was right in front of his eyes, waiting with open arms. He'd given in a bit, danced with her like she longed for him to do. But the next day, it had been back to business. It nearly broke his hearts when he saw the look of disappointment in her eyes when he barely responded to her touches.

He had kissed her, on Satellite Five. It was an action that came from a mixture of adrenaline, loneliness, self-loathing, the odd combination of humility and gratitude he felt at her sacrifice and determination to save him, and his love for her. A moment of weakness, and indecision, masked as and attempt to save her life. He didn't know if she remembered, and if she did, he could always explain it away as being the only way she would let her defenses down enough for him to release her from the Time Vortex. But either way, it was ruined by his regeneration, a huge moment stolen from both of them by the physiology of a Time Lord. Stupid.

But this regeneration was different from his last. Much different. He was young, or young enough, at least, to not draw attention from people who saw them together and thought that she was too young, or him too old. And he was good-looking, in a way he hadn't been before. And it was harder to say no to Rose. Harder to stop himself from responding animalistically when Rose – or Cassandra, as he found out later – kissed him on New Earth. This body was more responsive, more sensitive to tactile stimulation, than his previous body had been. Well, it made a bit of sense: he was born out of a deep love for Rose – he had sacrificed himself to save her life, after all – that was magnified in this incarnation, just as his previous regeneration had been born out of a war as a soldier. And it was that realization, fueled by his response to Cassandra's kiss, which made him pull away again.

He shielded first behind Sarah Jane, his old and dear friend. Then he brought Mickey on board, despite the protests from Rose that he had pretended not to see. Finally, it was Reinette who he hid behind, trying to push Rose away, to protect her from himself. But it hadn't worked. By doing that, he only succeeded in hurting Rose, anyway, and both Reinette and himself in the process. Honestly, there was nothing stupider that he could have done.

So he stopped. He accepted his feelings, and hers. He stopped pushing her away, and she came back willingly, eagerly. They hadn't been together in that way, not yet, but they were so close. They touched more often than necessary, their hands practically glued together. When they weren't holding hands, it wasn't often that they weren't connected in some other way, whether it be through a hug, a hand on a shoulder, or just standing so close they were brushing up against each other. It began to feel unnatural when she wasn't by his side, as though a part of him was missing, and in some ways, it was true. Her hand had become an extension of his own, and nothing felt right without her next to him. His lungs constricted, his hearts pounded, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out to stroke her hair or run his hand down her arm, just to remind himself that she was still there.

But he had never wanted to act on his feelings. It wasn't right. He was a Time Lord. She was a human. He was over 900 years old and she was 20. Still practically a child, by Time Lord standards. And she would die, eventually. He would have to go on without her, a fate that would be so much worse if he gave in. No, he was happy enough just being with her. He didn't need to go any further.

But then they'd landed on the impossible planet, the planet orbiting around a black hole without being sucked in. And everything had changed.

* * *

Rose made her way through the halls of the TARDIS, donned now in her tank top and shorts from last night. She didn't know where he was, but she could guess that the TARDIS was leading her to him, based on the humming coming from the walls that was getting steadily louder. Rose paused at the end of the corridor and peeked into the room beyond. The main console. Of course he would be here. It was obvious, now that she thought of it, but she had been worried that he had squirreled himself away somewhere to hide and to think and to brood.

Rose laid a hand on the wall of the corridor, murmuring her thanks and felt a tingle run through her body from the contact. The TARDIS had always liked her, but since she had looked into the Heart, begging to be sent back to the Doctor on Satellite 5, she felt a deeper connection to her, almost sister-like. Rose smiled at that. She had always wanted a sister. But she had never imagined she would find one in a sentient time machine.

Rose took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked into the room, stopping a few feet away from the console. The Doctor's back was to her, and he appeared to be lost in very deep thought. Rose didn't need three guesses to figure out what it was about. . . .

She cleared her throat. "Doctor-" she began.

His back tightened at his name, and he swung around, plastering a smile onto his face. "Rose!" he exclaimed, trying to muster up his usual exuberance. "Well, now, where do you want to go today? We could always try Falmaria! They've got trees there that actually control the weather. When they're pleased, sun! When they're sad, rain, obviously. Ooh, you don't want to see when they're mad though." He turned, dancing around the TARDIS's console, pulling levers and flipping switches. "Or, we could go to Amtar, home of the universe's largest ocean. Actually, the entire planet is the ocean. Oh, but they've got brilliant underwater cities hidden in undersea caves with pockets of air. They're beautiful, you'd love it there. They've actually got real live mermaids. Or, there's always the lost city of Atlantis, before it sank into the depths of the ocean and was . . . well, lost, hence the name."

Rose had been trying to interrupt, to get a word in to say that she didn't want to go anywhere, not at that moment. She wanted to talk to him, to actually sit down and have a real conversation with him, one that didn't involve whatever nefarious plot they found themselves in. But at the mention of Atlantis she felt her jaw drop and she couldn't help asking, "Atlantis? It's real?"

He grinned. "Oh, yes! Brilliant city, brilliant people. Technology advanced way ahead of their time. Which is to be expected, I suppose, as they were aliens," he added thoughtfully.

She gaped at him, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "You're telling me that Atlantis was real, and it was an alien city?"

"Well, yeah. They-"

"Wait. Stop," she said, shaking her head to get her mind back on track. "Doctor, I think we need to talk about . . . well . . . you know. Last night."

He froze, a pained expression on his face. "Rose-

"Just, hang on a minute. Let me talk for once." She took a deep breath. "You're gonna say it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. But, Doctor, last night was. . . ." Rose drifted off as she approached him slowly, as if he were a wild animal about to bolt any second. Which was basically true, if the way he was looking at her was any indication. But Rose was undeterred as she took a large breath and continued, "It was . . . the best night of my life." She smiled, not her usual, all-encompassing grin, but a softer, more content smile. "You don't know how long I've waited for you. For us."

"Rose," the Doctor interjected, his hearts thudding. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He backed away slowly. "I. . . . I think. . . ." He wanted to say something, _anything_, but for the first time in this regeneration, words seemed to escape him. "I think. . . ." _God, say something!_ he screamed to himself. _Anything!_ "I think . . . we should go to Amtar." And at that, he turned back to the console and began flipping random switches, unable to concentrate on which switches, exactly, he was flipping and hoping that he wasn't going to do something to blow them up. Well, he had said something, at least. . . .

Rose was silent for a moment, then snapped, "You can't be serious."

"What?" he asked innocently. "I told you, it's quite beautiful there! And there's unlikely to be any trouble; it's a peaceful planet. What could be better?"

"'What could be better?'" she quoted. "You actually listening to me, for one! _That_ might be better, yeah?"

The Doctor glanced at her, taking in her furrowed brows, brown eyes bright with anger, and mouth twisted into a scowl. "I was listening. And you're right. Last night was. . . ." Amazing. Brilliant. Superb. "Good."

He didn't need to look at her to know how she felt about that. The hurt and disbelief were dripping from her voice as she repeated, "'Good?' That's it?"

"Yeah." He closed his eyes, steeling himself against what he knew he had to say next. It was hurtful. Rude. But it had to be said, even if it wasn't true. "What do you expect, Rose? I'm 900 years old. I've had a lot of brilliant nights, and they're pretty difficult to top." _But last night was better than all of them combined, _he had to stop himself from adding.

Rose was quiet for a long time. So long that the Doctor wondered if she had left. He couldn't bear to look though, in case she hadn't. If he saw her face, saw the hurt and the tears that were surely leaking from her eyes, he would break down. Wrap her in his arms and tell her that he was lying, plead with her to forgive him, explain why he was doing this. Why it would be better for both of them, in the end, to go back to how they were.

_But why?_ a sharp voice in the back of his mind asked. _Would it be so wrong to actually tell her how you feel?_ Was it his imagination, or did the voice have a distinct northern accent? _Stop being so bloody stubborn and self-righteous and do something for _yourself_ for once!_ _To hell with the consequences!_

_If it's so easy_, the Doctor answered back, _why didn't you ever do something about it?_

_You've got to be kidding me, _the voice replied, disbelief echoing in his voice._ Don't you remember? I was a wreck! I'm surprised she could even fit into the TARDIS with all the baggage I had. She didn't need that. She needs you_.

The Doctor shook his head. No, that baggage wasn't gone; it was only better hidden. He was still damaged goods, and Rose deserved better than that. She deserved someone who wouldn't clam up any time she tried to ask about his past. Someone who didn't hide behind mindless, meaningless chatter. Someone who was closer to her age. Someone human.

He couldn't give her any of that, but he could give her the freedom to find someone who would.

He jumped as he felt a hand on his arm, interrupting his thoughts. "Doctor," Rose said, her voice low and sultry. He couldn't help but glance over at her to see her eyes peering up at him from beneath her long eyelashes. He looked away quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. Rose let her hand drift up along his arm lightly, travel across his shoulder, and come to rest on the back of his neck. Her fingers massaged the nape of his neck and tickled the short hairs that grew there. He closed his eyes and bit his lip to fight back the moan that was making its way up his throat. "You can't pretend that it didn't mean anything to you," she said, leaning into his back.

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He mentally shook his head and tried to ignore the miracle her fingers were performing on his neck, searching for words, any words, to say. "You're right," he finally managed. He hated himself so much for this, but it was the only thing he could think of that would get her to stop. It was more than rude. It was devastating. It was going to break her heart. "I can't pretend that." Summoning all of his remaining self-control, he wrenched himself away from her touch and launched himself across the room, putting the console between them, still unable to look at her. "Because it didn't."

Rose was silent for a moment, as he continued to fiddle with the TARDIS's controls. "Well," she finally said, her voice thick with tears. "If that's how you feel."

And then she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2: The Game

Welcome, and welcome back, readers, to chapter two of this horribly-named fic. I don't particularly have anything much to say about this chapter... Except, I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or Doctor Who. They are the property of the BBC. And I also don't own the song "A Total Eclipse of the Heart." That's Bonnie Tyler's.

Oh, also, forgot to apologize previously for any American-ized writing and phrases and the like. I'm trying to get rid of them, and if I catch them I change them, but alas I don't quite speak the British lingo. So, apologies for possibly butchering your language.

* * *

The voice, when it spoke again, was full of scorn and bitterness. _You idiot. You just ruined the best thing that's ever happened to you_.

The Doctor ignored it as he furiously thrust his sonic screwdriver into the depths of the TARDIS's machinery. He had once again retreated to his favorite sulking spot: underneath the TARDIS's grated floor and behind the panel covering most of the intricate wiring. He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was doing, but it was probably something that he would need to fix later, when he had calmed down a bit.

_You know what she's doing right now, you miserable sod? _The thick northern accent reverberated around the Doctor's mind, giving him a headache. _She's in her room, listening to that _stupid_ Bonnie Tyler song over and over again and crying her eyes out. Because of you._

"Yes, thank you _very_ much," the Doctor answered through gritted teeth. "I think I've had about enough of you."

_Oh, have you? Well, okay then, suppose I'll just scurry off, leave you to your tinkering, yeah? _

"Sounds good to me."

_Well, tough. Because I'm here until you stop being a git and tell her you love her._

"I can't."

_You can._

"I _can't_."

The voice let out a frustrated groan. _Yes, you can. There's nothing physically stopping you except your own stubbornness and thick ideas._

"God, would you just shut _up_?" He accented the last word by slamming his fist into the floor, a loud cracking sound accompanying the punch, as well as an angry hum from the TARDIS. The Doctor held open his fist to reveal that his sonic screwdriver had broken in two. He stared at it forlornly. "My sonic screwdriver," he said sadly. "I love my sonic screwdriver."

_That's what you did to her heart, times about 5 billion_.

* * *

_And I need you now tonight. _

_And I need you more than ever. _

_And if you only hold me tight _

_We'll be holding on forever._

Rose lay face up on her bed, staring at the ceiling and singing at the top of her lungs, trying to drown out the sound of the Doctor's words echoing in her head. She had moved past crying now, into numbness. The walls of the TARDIS blasted out her guilty pleasure song so loudly that she could feel her bed vibrating beneath her.

_And we'll only be making it right_

_'Cause we'll never be wrong._

_Together we can take it to the end of the line. _

_Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time._

She _couldn't_ believe that she had been so wrong about his feelings. She _wouldn't_. She knew he felt something for her, something much more than friendship. She had seen the way he looked at her, the love – and lust – in his eyes. She'd felt the fire between them, fire that left a burning trail when he stroked her cheek or ran his hand up her arm or traced circles with his fingers on her hand. She felt his hearts beating faster when they hugged, staying wrapped in each other's arms for just a _little_ longer than necessary for "just friends." She felt the way he clung to her hand, as if it were the only thing keeping him alive, keeping him sane. She couldn't have read all those signals wrong, could she?

Sure, he was a bit of a flirt this time around. Well, maybe last time around, too. . . . But, more so in this regeneration. This wasn't flirting, though. This was something deeper. More connected. More intimate. More real.

No, she knew he loved her. But for some stupid reason he was pushing her away again, and she had no idea why. Honestly, sometimes she felt like she knew him better than he knew himself, and others times he was a complete stranger. Why did he keep doing this? What was so wrong about them being together?

_I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark. _

_We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks. _

_I really need you tonight. _

_Forever's gonna start tonight. _

_Forever's gonna start tonight._

Rose groaned and flipped over onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. This song really said it all, didn't it? Everything about their complicated relationship, their unspoken feelings, their potential. The sparks between them that went off every time they touched. She couldn't be the only one to see what they could be, to feel those fireworks.

She just didn't understand what was so wrong about them being together when it had felt so right. Nothing had ever felt so right. Everyone always said that perfection is impossible to achieve, but Rose and the Doctor had proven them wrong last night. How could perfection be wrong?

_Once upon a time I was falling in love, _

_But now I'm only falling apart _

_There's nothing I can do... _

_A total eclipse of the heart_

She felt like she was in a dream. She had seen so much in such a short amount of time: alternate universes, the end of the world, the London Blitz, daleks, cybermen. A planet in orbit around a black whole. The devil. So many things that normal people couldn't ever even begin to imagine. She thought that nothing would surprise her anymore.

But last night had been beyond her wildest imaginings. She loved the Doctor, of course, entirely, with every molecule in her body. And she knew he felt the same way. She dreamed of being with him. But that was all her imaginings were: dreams. Fantasies. She had never even considered that they would ever actually move past friendship into . . . well, something else, whatever it was. What did you call a Time Lord and a human in a relationship? Was there some special name for it?

Was that what this was? Was there some traditional Time Lord ritual that was supposed to happen now? Was he waiting for her to do something? Was that how this went with Time Lords? Sleep together, and then the female . . . does something? Oh, for all Rose knew, she was now supposed to dance around the TARDIS console naked with a plethora of watches dangling around her neck, doing some Gallifreyan chant.

Although from what little the Doctor had told her about the Time Lords that seemed just a bit unlikely. . . .

_Once upon a time there was light in my life, _

_But now there's only love in the dark _

_Nothing I can say... _

_A total eclipse of the heart_

No, what seemed more likely was what Rose originally thought. The Doctor was trying to push her away, like he'd done when they first met, and again when he regenerated. Well, she wouldn't have it then, and she wouldn't have it now. If he wanted to push her away, he was going to have to push harder than those scrawny arms of his would ever be able to. Rose wasn't going anywhere.

In fact, she was going to make him realize what, exactly, he was missing out on.

* * *

The Doctor stood once again at the TARDIS's console, watching the mechanism as it remade his sonic screwdriver, almost hypnotized by the whirring, robotic movements. There was a welcome silence in his head ever since he had broken the screwdriver, but he was fairly certain that that wouldn't last long.

In truth, he knew that the voice – whether it was actually his previous regeneration come back to viciously berate him, or it was his subconscious using the voice to speak, he didn't know; most likely, both were true – was right, and he was being beyond horrible to Rose. And she didn't deserve that. But he couldn't help but feel that if they took that next step, and something went wrong, it would be even worse for her. And she certainly didn't deserve _that_.

In passing, the Doctor wondered if maybe it was time she went home. She deserved a bit of normalcy. A chance to live out the normal life he could never have. He'd already done the family thing, had had children, even a granddaughter.

God, he hadn't thought of Susan in so long. Or rather, he hadn't _let _himself think of her. She was gone now, along with the rest of his family. The rest of his species.

But Rose had her entire life ahead of her. She shouldn't waste it hung up on some lonely Time Lord. She should be out finding a job, a husband, a house. That was the real adventure, wasn't it? At one time, he had hated that life. He would have done – well he _did _do – anything to get away from it. Now he secretly longed for it, for something slightly resembling normal. But he could never have that. If he even stood still for too long he was bombarded with the memories of his family, his people. And the death of them all. No, his life now, with Rose, was as close as he would ever get. But she deserved better. She deserved normal.

But he couldn't just dump her back in London with her mum. He'd promised her forever, if she wanted it. He wouldn't – couldn't – back out of that, not if it was what she still wanted. He doubted he would even be able to just get rid of her anyway. He needed her so much. Much more than he ever let on.

And that right there was the dilemma. He wanted to be with her. He loved her more than anything. And she promised him forever. But forever for her was so much shorter than forever for him. Eventually she would be gone. If they took that next step, how much more would he come to need her? He couldn't imagine a time without her with the way things were _now_. And when she was gone, everything would be a thousand times harder. No, it was best to keep things how they were. It would save him – and her – so much heartache, in the end.

_You just keep telling yourself that_.

And the voice, unceremoniously, was back. He sighed dramatically. Wonderful. _Ah, I was wondering when you would be joining me again_.

_Oh, you missed me. Sorry to keep you waiting_.

The Doctor snorted. _If by "missed" you mean dreaded completely, then you're right. I did._

_Sarcasm. _The voice seemed to laugh out the word. _You aren't usually one for it, are you? That was more my thing. Wonder what it could be that's making you so defensive_. . . .

"Oh, I dunno," the Doctor grumbled. "A voice attacking me in my head, maybe?"

_And now you're talking to yourself. Is it possible that you've finally really and truly lost it?_

He considered that for a moment. He'd been called crazy a few times before. Well, maybe a bit more than a few. But sometimes a person had to act crazy. Like, for example, when trying to distract whatever alien is threatening you. Sometimes crazy was the only way out of a bad situation.

Now, though, he was hearing voices, talking to himself, becoming unnecessarily violent towards inanimate objects. Was it possible that the very few remaining chickens had flown the coop, as it were?

"You could be right."

"Who're you talking to?"

The Doctor just about jumped out of his skin at Rose's voice behind him. He hadn't heard her come in. He hadn't even seen her, and he was facing the hallway that led into the depths of the TARDIS, the direction she would have come from.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, whirling around to face her. "Just . . . I was just talking to . . . the TARDIS. . . ." He trailed off as he took in her appearance.

There were no signs of crying or any hint of sadness at all, really. Rose's brown eyes were bright and full of her normal fire. Her cheeks were rosy and her mouth curved into a teasing smile. Her hair was different, somehow. She hadn't curled it so much as she had. . . . The Doctor couldn't think of the right word. Volumized it? Yes, that was it. Her hair was bigger, framing her face so that her eyes peered sultrily through rogue strands. Her eye make-up was more subtle, but she had added a rich red lip gloss to the ensemble.

And she was wearing a _dress_, one that hugged her form quite nicely. He could count the number of times he had seen her in a dress on one hand, and that included the one she'd worn when they'd met Charles Dickens. The Doctor stared at her curves bemusedly, his eyes working his way down her body. The hem cut off just above her knees, but clung tightly to her thighs, showing off the curve of her hips. He had never noticed just how long and slender her legs were. And the shoes! She was wearing heels, blue to match the shade of the dress, but they were massive! The Doctor couldn't fathom how she was standing in them, let alone how she had managed to sneak up so silently behind him.

"You look. . . ." Beautiful. Fantastic. Stunning. Mouth-watering. The Doctor's mouth was bursting with compliments, but just as he was about to blurt them all out, there was a sharp noise that sounded like the timer on a microwave going off. He turned to see that the TARDIS's console had ejected his sonic screwdriver, all fixed and nearly good as new. The Doctor took advantage of the situation, shrugging his shoulders and turning his full attention to the sonic screwdriver. " . . . Nice," he finished, dismissively.

_Oh, very good, _the voice drawled. _Really. _Fantastic _save._

"Wow," she said, her voice gathering a bit of a teasing edge. "'Nice.'" She sidled up beside him and leaned her side against the console, her eyes peaking up at him through her eyelashes. "That's quite a compliment from you, isn't it? Especially when you call werewolves and clock robots _beautiful_. But me, I'm just 'nice,' yeah?"

He wanted so badly to turn to her and proclaim her undeniable, unsurpassable beauty, tell her that nothing would ever be so beautiful as she looked. But he couldn't. He had to stay strong, to not give in to those primal desires that were bubbling up in him. He chewed the inside of his cheek. _For Rassilon's sake_, he said to himself, _you're a bloody Time Lord. You're better than those human urges!_ "Well, you know," he said, fighting the desire to look at her, "I see you every day. Do I see werewolves and clock robots every day?"

"_Oh_," she said, smiling. "So you've just become _accustomed_ to my beauty, is that it?"

Well, there was no safe answer there. She'd trapped him, really and truly. So instead he said, "Besides, if there's one thing I love, it's practicality. Now _that's_ truly beautiful." And here he did look at her, staring pointedly at those immense heels and the way the fabric of her blue dress clung to her. "How are you ever going to run in _that_?"

"And Madame de Pompadour's clothes were so practical. I'm sure _that's_ why you were attracted to her."

"Oh, come on," he groaned. He really never would hear the end of Reinette, would he? "That was a completely different time period. She couldn't very well go running about in jeans, a t-shirt, and trainers, could she?"

She laughed. "S'pose not." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning closer into him. "But, Doctor, a real woman knows how to. . . ." She drifted off, pausing as she thought of the right word. The Doctor was captivated by her eyes, leaning closer until he could feel her breath tickling his face. "How to . . . _maneuver_ in outfits like these." As she spoke, she slid her hand up his arm until it came to rest just below his shoulder. She squeezed his arm lightly, as her hand softly stroked it.

The Doctor's eyes flicked quickly down to her mouth, then back up to her hypnotizing gaze. _Just do it!_ He couldn't tell if it was the voice shouting at him, or his own. _Tell her how you feel! Kiss her! Something!_ He couldn't think straight anymore. Why was he so against this again? He leaned in slowly, his hand reaching up to tangle in her hair.

But suddenly she pulled away from him, pushed off from the console and made her way over to the only seat in the console room. The Doctor was left with his body bent at an uncomfortable angle, his hand frozen in midair inches from where her head had been only moments before.

"So," she said brightly as she perched herself on the chair. She crossed her legs and leaned back, perfectly relaxed and seemingly unfazed by what had just happened. Or not happened, rather. "Where to next?"


	3. Chapter 3: The Escape

Hello again, everyone! Thank you for sticking with this, and also thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Like all other writers on here, I absolutely LOVE getting reviews, so by all means, don't be shy with what you have to say.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or anything that you recognize from the show. However, the Kripnallene do come from my imagination, and any resemblance they may have to anything preexisting is not intentional.

* * *

Rose grinned as the Doctor straightened up and glanced back at her in confusion. The hand that had been frozen in the air now reached back as he ruffled his hair, then scratched behind his ear. He cleared his throat, mumbling to himself. "Right. Um, yeah. That's. . . . Right." He looked around blankly at the console room until his gaze fixated on the sonic screwdriver that had been abandoned in the midst of their conversation. "Right!" he exclaimed, suddenly seeming to remember what he was doing. Rose giggled to herself. He grabbed his screwdriver and pocketed it, patting the pocket happily.

"So! Where should we go? Clearly not back to Earth's past, with those clothes," he stated factually, gesturing at her outfit. "So then, future, or another planet?"

"Both?" Rose suggested.

"Brilliant!" he shouted. "Yes! Both! Wonderful idea!"

Rose watched, as she had done thousands of times before, as he ran madly around the console, pulling levers and flipping switches and pressing buttons. Once or twice he grabbed the large hammer he left sitting by the side of the console and bashed a section of machinery, then flung the hammer aside and moved on to the next lever that required his attention. Rose had been trying to figure out a method to this madness ever since she had first come on board, but she still hadn't the foggiest idea of what any of the multitude of buttons, levers, switches, and gauges did or how to use them.

Finally, she felt the TARDIS settle and the Doctor grinned over at her. Rose sprang to her feet – which were steadily becoming numb from the heels – and ran to the door. She glanced behind her. "So, anything I should know before going out?"

"Nope," he said, grinning at her. She made to pull open the door. "Wait!" he said urgently. "Just, whatever you do, don't say the word bounce. Or any form of the word. Or any words relating to that word."

"Bounce," she repeated, turning to face him. "Why? What's wrong with that word?"

"It's incredibly rude. It'd be like combining all of your swear words into one word, then multiplying the rudeness of that by about . . . 5,904."

"Oh, about?"

"Yeah, thereabouts."

"So instead of saying "bloody" they would say "bouncin'? As in, 'That makes me so bouncin' mad'?" she asked dubiously. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she should take him seriously. It sounded as if he were pulling her leg a bit.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't say that at all. It's all but forbidden."

"Right. Duly noted." Rose turned back to the door.

"Oh, one more thing!" she shouted.

Rose spun back around. "Now what?"

"Just . . . when you see how they get around, you're really going to want to say it. Just trust me. Don't."

"Got it."

* * *

"I told you."

Rose glared at the Doctor from her cell, which just happened to be across from his own. He was lying on the small cot provided to them, stretched out on his back, his legs hanging off the edge of the cot at his knees. The inhabitants of this planet, the Kripnallene, were a bit shorter on average than humans, and it didn't help that the Doctor was taller than most humans.

Rose was sitting on the edge of her own cot, her elbows on her knees and her head resting on her hands. Her blue dress had torn down the side and there was green mud splattered all over her front and back. Her poor shoes were completely coated in the green mud they had treaded through to try to get back to the TARDIS, and the heel of her left shoe had broken off.

In hindsight, the heels really weren't the best shoes for running in, but she had been true to her word. She did know how to maneuver in them. They hadn't been the reason they had gotten caught.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't tripped on your _sensible_ trench coat, we would have made it back to the TARDIS. If I remember correctly, I was ahead of you. In a dress. And _heels_. Even after they broke."

"Well now, there's no need to start being _rude_."

Rose snorted. "This coming from the guy who told Queen Victoria that her husband's work on a telescope was shoddy."

"Oi, that wasn't my fault! I was still getting used to having such a big mouth! I couldn't control it."

Rose sighed and kicked off her ruined shoes. No need for them anymore. Might as well go barefoot from here on out. "Alright, then, Doctor. Whatever you say. Now how about we get outta here."

"Already tried," he called glumly. "The lock's made out of wood. Sonic screwdriver won't work. Should've upgraded it while it was getting fixed today. Maybe it would've worked then. . . ." he added, almost as an afterthought.

Rose felt a spike of irritation. Really, those shoes were quite lovely, and now because of him they were ruined. And he wasn't even going to try to get them out of here? "So that's it, then? We're trapped for good, all because your bloody screwdriver doesn't work on wooden locks?" The Doctor glanced over, nodding. "Well, bollocks on that." She sprang to her feet, grinning madly. "Watch and learn, Doctor." Rose reached up into her hair, pulling out two bobby pins. "I'm gonna get us out of here," she announced proudly.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Rose and the Doctor were running madly down the hallway, hand in hand and grinning. They turned a corner and nearly ran straight into another locked door, which Rose set to work on with her two bobby pins.

"Where'd you learn that?" the Doctor asked as he watched her work, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on picking the lock.

"Mickey taught me, _years_ ago. I kept locking my keys inside the flat, and Mum got sick of having to call the landlord to let us in. I always stick a few bobby pins in my hair, just in case."

The door swung open in front of her, and she peered around the room it opened into. "No guards?" she asked curiously.

"None needed, not in the actual prison, anyway. The Kripnallene can't touch wood. It's like acid to them. That's why all the guards wear such thick gloves. Skin protection. Well, that, and no skin to skin contact is allowed in public, save for immediate families." The Doctor grinned at her and took her hand in his pointedly.

Something clicked in Rose's memory. "So they thought we were. . . ." Rose drifted off, unsure what to make of that. Surely the Doctor had known about that custom. And yet he hadn't mentioned it or seemed at all worried by the way the Kripnallene had looked at them, especially when he had pulled her in for a hug. Not even the married couples had shown that much affection publicly. Could that mean. . . ?

Of course, he had shown plenty of interest earlier that day in the TARDIS. She'd had him in the palm of her hand then. She'd already known the Doctor was attracted to her, and that had provided the evidence she needed. But the question was, did his feelings for her go any deeper than attraction? She was sure they did, but what she was looking for was proof. He was attracted to her, but attraction didn't necessarily equate to love.

Was it possible that they were together? Just without the actual label? The Doctor had denied loving her vehemently, but would he have broken the customs of another species so easily for just a friend? Or was it that he just didn't care what the Kripnallene had made of their relationship? Honestly, why did he have to be so bouncin' confusing?

Rose sighed as the Doctor strode into the room, pulling her behind him. They were in a small room just off the main room of the prison. Judging by the furniture, it was a break room for the guards. There was a couch and what looked to be some type of television, but based off of a different type of technology. Kripnallene technology, obviously. There were cabinets and what looked to be the Kripnallene equivalent of a sink and a fridge stuffed into one of the corners.

The Doctor pulled her around the couch towards the door on the other side of the room. He jiggled the door handle, grinning as it opened. He peeked through the crack in the door, then swung the door open widely. "All clear," he announced, pulling Rose into the room with him.

Rose glanced around, confused. "Where is everyone?" They were in the entrance to the prison, which surely should have had at least _one_ guard . . . well . . . guarding. However there was no one behind the large desk that covered the back wall and the waiting area was completely empty. Rose peered out the clear front doors. "There isn't even anyone outside."

The Doctor clapped his hands together, grinning. "Then let's not stand around waiting for them to arrest us again. _Allons-y_!" He began pulling Rose through the doors, then paused, as if considering something.

"Doctor?" Rose asked, concerned. Usually when he got that distant look in his eye it meant he was thinking up a plan, considering their options, or calculating the probability of their death. Usually. Sometimes, though. . . .

Sometimes he got distracted by the most random, unhelpful things. This was one of those times, Rose realized, as he mumbled, "_Allons-y_. I should say that more often."

Rose groaned, rolling her eyes. "Alright, then, come on!" She hauled him through the doors, out into the open air.

As they wandered through the deserted streets, Rose grew more and more confused at the lack of people. "A'right, seriously, where is everyone?"

"That . . . really is a good question," the Doctor muttered, gazing around.

"Don't get me wrong, it's nice not being chased by a hoard of people who, to be totally honest, might as well be carrying pitchforks and torches, but this is just . . . weird."

"You're right, Rose. There's something not right here." The Doctor paused to peer into the windows of one of the shops that lined the road, then turned back to Rose. "I think," he began, his voice so quiet that he was nearly whispering, "that we should get back to the TARDIS. _Now_."

They took off at a run down the street. Rose glanced back over her shoulder, expecting to see a mob of people chasing them, but still the street remained empty. A chill ran up her spine. Normally, when things seemed strange, the Doctor wanted to stick around, try and sort things out. But this time, for whatever reason, something was different. Something had him spooked. She reached her hand out to her side, searching for the Doctor's, and found it already grasping for her own. "What's going on?" she panted, as he picked up speed, pulling her along with him.

The Doctor was silent for a moment. "I have no idea," he finally said, "but whatever it is, we don't want to be a part of it."

Finally, they reached the swamp they'd been caught in earlier that day. They ploughed through, Rose not even noticing the disgusting feel of the mud on her bare feet. They were through the mud within minutes and were off and running again into a small wood. The clearing they had parked the TARDIS in was in sight and within minutes they had burst out of the trees, ready to barrel into the TARDIS and get off this planet, but what they saw – or rather, didn't see – made them stop dead in their tracks.

The TARDIS was gone.

Rose's mouth gaped open as the Doctor took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out to the exact spot he had parked her. "Impossible," he breathed, his hand waving through the empty air.

Rose felt sick, her stomach sinking. "Doctor. . . . What . . . what do we do?"

He turned back to her, his face grim and eyes fiery. "We do what we always do. We find out what's going on here. We stop them, whoever they are. And we get the TARDIS back."


	4. Chapter 4: The Search

Hello again, my lovelies! I hope you're enjoying this story, and thank you all for your reviews! They make me so happy!

I'm not going to lie... I think the last chapter and this chapter sort of drag, but stick with it, because it's about to get pretty good! At least, I hope it is... Just for reference there are six more chapters in this story, and then a sequel, and then another sequel that I've just begun. But don't worry, none of them are going to be extremely long! In fact, the first and second stories started off as one, but I split them up because I didn't like how long it was getting to be, especially with where I wanted to go with the story.

But enough of my babbling! On to the story! (Oh, and speaking of babbling, the information from the Doctor's random ramble in this chapter came from good old Wikipedia).

Disclaimer: Obviously I own nothing, except for the krelts. They indeed came from my imagination.

* * *

Rose was curled up on her side, shivers working their way up and down her body. The grass on this planet was rough and moist, a relatively uncomfortable surface to try to sleep on. She was still in her dress, although the Doctor had chivalrously given her his trench coat to use as a blanket. She had wrapped herself up in it as best she could, but it wasn't big enough to cover her completely. Her feet poked out just enough to be scratched by that blasted grass. Moisture was beginning to seep through the coat, as well, chilling Rose's left side.

Although, she had to admit, it wasn't all bad. She buried her nose in the Doctor's trench coat, letting his scent surround her. She smiled as she breathed in that familiar mixture of hair gel, tea, and a hint of musk that she could never quite put her finger on. Yes. Things could be worse.

They had spent the rest of the day snooping about the town for clues, but finding absolutely nothing that helped in any way. The town was still deserted, and all the buildings had somehow become impenetrable in the short time they had been absent while racing to the TARDIS. Neither the sonic screwdriver or Rose's lock-picking skills succeeded in opening any of the doors they tried. The windows were reinforced, somehow, as well. Unbreakable. They were forced to find a hidden little corner in a park to stay for the night.

Rose sighed, wriggling to try to get comfortable and somehow get her feet covered. She glanced over at the Doctor, who was sitting propped up against the trunk of a tree with blue leaves hanging down in wisps to resemble a weeping willow. The tree, he had told her, was one of the few that wasn't actually made of wood, but of a strange, wood-like substance called purlough found only on this planet. It wasn't toxic to the Kripnallene as wood was, and so was the only kind of tree legal to grow in public areas. He had leaned against it happily, saying that purlough trunks were the most comfortable trunks to sleep against in the entire universe. At the moment, he appeared to be asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed. However, Rose suspected that he was quite awake, his mind going at an unbelievable speed, trying to think of a way out of this, whatever _this_ was.

Rose sat up, wrapping the trench coat around her shoulders. She stayed like that for a few moments, watching the Doctor intently, then struggled to her feet, almost tripping on the blasted tie that cinched around the waist and was dragging on the ground. She walked quietly over to him, plopping down on his left side, leaning back against the tree and wrapping the coat around her bare legs. The Doctor's eyes never opened, nor did he lift his head, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Rose grinned, looking up at the smile curling at the edges of his mouth, and snuggled into his side, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

Rose sighed again, contentedly this time, as the Doctor tilted his head to rest on hers. His other arm found its way inside the trench coat, and wound around her waist, his hand coming to rest on her hip. Rose breathed deeply, his smell intoxicating her. Her eyes fluttered closed.

The purlough trunk was quite comfortable, she had to admit. But not nearly as comfortable to lean on as the Doctor was.

_No_, she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep. _Things could be much, much worse_.

* * *

The Doctor awoke to a tickle on his nose. He crinkled his nose, trying to get whatever it was away, but it just made it worse. He sniffed and the smell of flowers and a hint of lemon washed over him, a pleasant, familiar smell. He smiled, suddenly unconcerned with the continuing tickle on his nose. He opened his eyes lazily, his vision flooded with strands of blond hair sticking up wildly.

Rose was curled against him, his arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Sometime in the night they had shifted to the ground, and Rose's back was now to him, his nose buried in her messy blond hair. Her breathing was slow and steady. Still asleep.

The Doctor reached a hand up, brushing her hair away from his face and exposing the curve of her slender neck. He leaned forward, breathing in her scent once more, his lips hovering over her now bare neck. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to kiss the crook of her neck. He didn't notice that Rose's breathing had become irregular, as she tried to slow her quickening gasps.

His trench coat had slipped off her arm, exposing her shoulder. The Doctor trailed his fingers slowly down her arm. Goose bumps rose on her soft skin, which the Doctor attributed to the slight chill in the air. He found the edge of the coat and lifted it back up to cover her shoulder. His arm wound around her waist again, pulling her back closer to him.

Rose had managed to slow her breathing again, though the Doctor's warm breath on her neck had shivers running up her spine for reasons other than the cold. She wished she could stay wrapped in his arms like that forever, but she didn't know how long she could without giving it away that she was awake, so she yawned, loudly, stretching out her legs.

The Doctor jumped at her yawn, then grinned as she stretched and turned over onto her other side to face him. She smiled sleepily at him. "G'morning," she said, yawning again.

"Morning," he replied. He reached up to brush the hair out of her face, then froze, realizing what he was doing. Really, it was all well and good – if just a little creepy – to do it while she was sleeping, but now that she was awake he had to pull himself together. No over-affectionate touching. Last night had been a special case, he told himself. Rose had been cold, and he had only been lending her his body heat.

_You know very well that that wasn't the reason_, the voice stated bluntly.

_Shut it_, he answered back.

The Doctor pulled his hand back, running it through his own hair instead. He pulled away from Rose, sitting up, automatically putting up a barrier between the two of them. Rose's smile faltered a bit, then came back full throttle. "Sleep well?" he asked, turning away from her hypnotic gaze.

"_Oh_," she sighed, her dreamy tone causing the Doctor to look inadvertently back at her. Rose slowly sat up, wrapping his trench coat back around her as it slid off her shoulders. "_Very _well," she said, smiling flirtatiously at him. "You?"

He shrugged, looking away again as his coat slid back off her exposed shoulder. "All right."

_Ha!_ The voice laughed. _That was the best you've slept in years, save for the night before last. . . . Just think, if you weren't such a bloody coward, every night could be like that. No more insomnia. No more nightmares. And you could wake up to Rose every morning._

The Doctor ignored the voice, standing and brushing off his blue suit. "Right then!" he exclaimed exuberantly. "Priority one today, Rose?"

Rose hesitated, thrown off a bit by his sudden change in demeanor. "Find the TARDIS?" she asked hesitantly.

"No!" he answered, grinning. He reached down to grasp her hands and pull her onto her feet. "Priority one is to find you some proper clothes. We can't have you running about in a dress that's covered in mud and torn up and without shoes." Rose looked down at her ragged dress to see that it did indeed have a number of holes where the fabric had snagged on branches. "Priority _two_ is to –"

"Find the TARDIS!" Rose interrupted confidently.

"No!" he repeated. "Priority two: find whoever _took_ the TARDIS so we can deal with them. And _then_ we find the TARDIS." The Doctor gazed around at their surroundings. The city still appeared to be deserted, but that could have just been because it was rather early in the morning. "Now, until we find some clothes for you, you can keep my coat. But!" he exclaimed, turning back to Rose with a steely glint in his eye. "I expect it back in the exact condition I gave it to you. I'm very fond of that coat, Rose."

Rose fought back a grin. Saying he was fond of his coat was like saying chocolate was good; it was possibly the biggest understatement ever made. Chocolate was _phenomenal_, and the Doctor was _absolutely_ in love with his coat. In fact, there were three things that the Doctor was excessively attached to and extremely possessive over: the TARDIS, his sonic screwdriver, and his tan trench coat. He'd already lost one of them less than 24 hours ago. Best not be the cause of the loss of another. She straightened out her face and said, as seriously as she could manage, "I promise, Doctor."

* * *

The streets were still empty. Rose and the Doctor had spent the better part of the day roaming the streets, attempting to get into any of the buildings they came across, but they were all deadlocked and reinforced, just as the windows were. In other words, the Doctor and Rose were looking at another night sleeping in the park.

They had managed to salvage a large sweatshirt, round to accommodate the Kripnallenes' rotund torsos, and a pair of what appeared to be tight leggings made out of a red fabric not unlike cotton off of a shop dummy that had been left outside the locked doors of a used clothing shop. Rose had changed into them in the alley next to the shop, discarding her ruined dress in the shop's large dumpster. She'd had returned the Doctor's trench coat in the same, ragged and mud-stained condition it had been in the night before. Unfortunately, they had not managed to find a pair of shoes for her, so she was forced to continue wandering about the town barefoot.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Rose stated as she peered into the window of a grey building. Inside, the walls were a bright blue and judging by the furniture – an odd, stunted couch, a few lumps of fabric that might pass as armchairs but more closely resembled beanbag chairs, and a pseudo-television – she was peeking into the living room of someone's house. It was impossible to tell the houses from the shops or other buildings on this planet without actually looking in. They were all shaped the same: rectangular, three stories high, and built of what looked to be concrete.

Rose huffed and tore herself away from the window, turning to frown at the Doctor, who was running some sort of scan with his sonic screwdriver. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I mean, this city was _full_ of people just yesterday morning. And now the houses are deserted, the shops are empty, and there's no indication that anyone's even been around these streets, save for us."

The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver and ran his hand through his hair, gazing around at the buildings surrounding them. "Someone is really trying to get our attention. . . ." he said. "They have to know we're here. That's the only way they'd be able to take the TARDIS. Or even find it. And that's . . . a bit worrisome." He met Rose's eyes with a gleam in his own and a smile quirking up at the corners of his mouth. "Now, shall we go and meet whoever it is who's trying to isolate us?"

"But we don't. . . ." Rose paused, a grin spreading over her face. "You've found them, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed proudly, a mad grin on his face. "Sonic screwdriver picked up the faintest trace of alien tech! Wouldn't have found it if they hadn't been using it right at that same moment! Rose, am I the luckiest man alive, or what?"

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Rose said, tying a knot at the back of the oversized sweatshirt to fit it better to her form and prevent it from snagging unnecessarily on anything. "Let's go get the bastard!"

* * *

The signal led them out of town to a small, empty field. The scratchy grass that had grown in the park grew in tall, thick clumps here, mere patches amongst a softer, light blue grass that smelled like salt. The field was edged in by trees on all four sides, presumably a good hiding place for anything one wouldn't want to be found by the Kripnallenes. The road Rose and the Doctor had followed emerged from the wood to arrive at a dead-end at the edge of the tree line.

"It's empty," Rose commented as they stopped at the edge of the field. "You sure this is where the signal came from?" she asked the Doctor, looking up at him dubiously.

He frowned, gazing around at the field. "Positive. They're here." He glanced at Rose, his eyebrows raised. "But they don't want to be found. Not yet."

He started off into the field, Rose trudging behind him unwillingly. She winced as the stiff grass scratched against her bare feet, then yelped as something ran over her toes. The Doctor was by her side in a heartbeat – or in his case, two heartbeats. "Everything alright? What is it?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing," Rose said, trying to shake off the involuntary shivers that were running down her spine. "Just a . . . mouse, or something, ran across my foot." She started walking again, trying to avoid the patches of stiff grass.

"Oh, Rose, don't be silly. They don't have mice here," the Doctor stated, grinning. He clasped his hand around her arm to steady her as she wobbled to avoid a particularly nasty clump of grass.

"They don't?"

"Nope," he answered happily. "What they _do_ have is a nasty krelt infestation. They've had problems with the buggers ever since a crew of Kripnallene visited Earth. They brought back – illegally, I might add – a few rats that one of the crew members had been keeping secretly. The rats escaped and mated with the local parrelt population, which is classified by human standards as a mammal, as it's got fur and births its young live, but is actually closer in physiology to a reptile, not unlike a snake, only it's got four legs and, as I mentioned, is covered in fur. But anyway, both animals are extremely fertile, and they already had a terrible problem with the parrelt population, so as you can guess, the krelt infestation is similar to the rat infestation in New York City. It's estimated that there are 32 million rats in good ole NYC, which amounts to four rats per person living there. In London it's estimated that there's only 1.3 rats per person, which is of course preposterous. You can't have 1 rat and then 30% of another rat. Well, you can, but not if you're talking about living rats. Statistics! I'll never understand them. Just like the average American family has 2.4 children. How can you have 2.4 children? I mean, I know you take the average number of children per household, but when did children become something that you can take parts of? Now if you said that the average house has 2.4 watermelons, now that would make sense. Ooh, I really could go for some watermelon–"

"_Doctor_!" Rose groaned. "Would you kindly shut up? I'm trying to concentrate on the idea that a cross between a rat and a snake with fur just _crawled_ over my _foot_." Rose froze. "Wait a minute. _Oh my God_." The Doctor turned back to look at her, his face quizzical. "Doctor, they aren't _poisonous, _are they?"

"No. Well, I don't _think _so. Well, probably not. Possibly." He paused, considering the idea for a moment. "That is an excellent question, Rose, one that I probably should know the answer to. But I don't."

Rose's eyes widened with fear. "So I'm walking through a field full of rat snakes that are potentially poisonous with _no shoes_?"

"That just about sums it up."

"Oh, God. The grass was bad enough, but now. . . . What are you doing?"

The Doctor was kneeling in front of her, his back to her. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he barked, "Well, get on. We can't very well have you get bitten by a potentially poisonous rat snake, now can we? Imagine what your mother would do to me." He shivered at the prospect of having to tell Jackie Tyler that her daughter had been poisoned because she had been shoeless walking through a field.

Rose grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his back. "You sure you can carry me? You _are_ pretty scrawny," she teased.

"Oi!" he exclaimed, hooking his arms underneath her legs. He hoisted her up onto his back and hauled himself to his feet, then started forward. "You mind that mouth, Rose Tyler, or I might have half a mind to drop you. It's your own fault anyway. I told you those shoes of yours were not appropriate dress for our lifestyle."

"Our _lifestyle_," Rose repeated. "Interesting way of putting it."

The Doctor opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything he walked straight into an invisible solid wall. The lack of limbs with which to steady himself caused him to wobble for a few moments, before gaining back his balance. Ripples ran through the air, briefly forming the outline of a curved wall before fading away. "Well," he said, "that was unexpected."

Rose reached out a hand to touch the wall and waves ran across it away from her fingers like ripples from a stone thrown into a calm lake. The wall itself was certainly very solid, though. "What is it?"

The Doctor reached out a hand to hold it against the wall as well. He began walking along the edge, ripples fanning out to reveal the outline of a spaceship. "It's a ship, relatively small," he murmured, though Rose could see that for herself. "Most likely only one person on board. Two at the very most. Obviously an off-worlder. The Kripnallene don't have the technology to make something this large invisible for a prolonged period of time, yet." His hand ran over a small crack in the metal. He followed the crack up as high as it would go, the ripples revealing what must be the door.

"Think they're in there?" Rose whispered, clinging tightly to his neck.

"Oh, definitely." He backed away, gazing about the seemingly empty space. "And I'm betting they know we're out here, too. Direct approach?" he asked her.

"Seems best," she answered.

The Doctor moved forward again, pressing his hand against the door. "Oi!" he called. "We know you're in there!" He waited a few moments, but no reply came.

Rose lifted her fist and banged on the door. "No good pretending you can't hear us!" she yelled.

The Doctor joined in, banging his fist on the door. "You might as well let us in, or I promise you, I _will_ find a way inside! You took something very important to me and I intend to get it back with your cooperation or without. And if it's without, you will be _very_ sorry."

Rose grinned. "He's not joking, either. He loves that blue box of his. Obsessed with it, he is."

There came a loud rumbling from inside the ship, causing the Doctor to quickly back away. The invisibility shield melted away, revealing a sleek, silver spaceship that reminded Rose a bit of a fighter jet. "All right, all right," a voice boomed out of a speaker. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

The speaker was American, no doubt about that, but that wasn't what made Rose slide off the Doctor's back in shock. No, Rose knew that voice almost as well as she knew the Doctor's. It was the voice of a dead man, or someone who she thought was dead. Someone who had died protecting the Doctor from an onslaught of daleks.

It was the voice of Captain Jack Harkness.


	5. Chapter 5: The Discovery

Rose gaped at the spaceship that had just materialized in front of her and the Doctor's eyes as the familiar voice of Captain Jack Harkness boomed from the speakers. "Doctor, that's. . . ." she trailed off in disbelief.

"I know," he said, sounding unsurprised.

Rose looked up at the tone of unquestioned acceptance in his voice. "But he's supposed to be . . . dead," she whispered.

"Rose," he said, turning to look at her, an intense gaze in his eyes, "my guess is that we're encountering Jack's earlier timeline, most likely while he's still with the Time Agency. He hasn't met us yet. Don't give _anything _about his future away." Rose opened her mouth to argue but the Doctor interrupted her. "_No_, Rose, you can't warn him about _any_ of it. If you do, his entire future could be changed, which means that _our_ entire future could be changed. He might not be there to catch you when you fall from that barrage balloon in 1941."

"But, Doctor-"

"No buts, Rose. Promise me you won't say anything." Rose looked away from his gaze, biting her lip. The Doctor lightly gripped her arm with one hand, his other coming to cup her cheek. He turned her face back to his. His eyes were unreadable, his gaze heated, his mouth set in a grim line. He tucked a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear. "Promise me, Rose," he said gently.

Rose stared up into his rich brown eyes, locked in his gaze. Her cheeks flushed as he lightly rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. "I promise," she whispered, unable to deny him. "I won't tell him."

The Doctor smiled as he brushed her hair out of her eyes once again. Really, he was a prat for using her feelings for him like this, but it had to be done. She was too kind-hearted not to warn Jack about his impending death, especially if she thought she could save him. But warning him, as he said, could change the entire future and cause a paradox big enough to split this universe right in half. She didn't realize that; how could she? All she saw in front of her was an opportunity to save a man's life. She didn't know that saving him would possibly result in an enormous catastrophe. But it was all right. She'd promised him, and Rose Tyler did not go back on her promises.

"All right, lovebirds," Jack's voice practically groaned through the speakers. "Permission to board, granted." As he spoke, the door slid open.

The Doctor didn't hesitate, striding confidently through the door and pulling Rose along behind him. The interior walls were silver, as the outside was, but the tubings that ran the length of the ship were red and blue. Rose was surprised to see a small kitchen area in the back of the ship complete with refrigerator and oven. A small foldout table was covered with papers and discarded mugs of what Rose assumed were coffee, given that he was American. There was a cot right across from the door with its sheets disheveled and unmade. At the front of the ship were the controls and Jack himself, grinning that cocky grin that Rose remembered so well at them.

"Welcome aboard," he said, leaning back in the pilot's chair. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Doctor John Smith," the Doctor said, leaning forward to study what must have been a particularly interesting panel of controls. "That's Rose," he added, gesturing behind him.

"Dr. and Mrs. Smith?" Jack asked, eyeing Rose.

Rose flushed at the heated gaze Jack was studying her with. She'd forgotten how it felt to looked at by him that way. The Doctor had made it clear after 1941 that though he and Rose weren't actually together, she was off-limits to Jack, and Jack had respectfully kept his distance. Besides, Rose had always gotten the hint that Jack actually preferred the Doctor to her. "No," she answered lightly. "Just traveling companions."

Jack's eyes flickered between the two of them. "Right," he said, obviously not believing her.

"So," the Doctor said as he straightened up. He stuck his hands in his pockets, his face expectant and his voice business-like. "Where's the TARDIS?"

"The what?"

"TARDIS. The blue box you stole."

"Ah, right." Jack lifted a hand to his chin, his eyes studying the Doctor. Jack's easy grin was gone, replaced with pursed lips and a glint in his eye that Rose had never seen before. The Doctor had been right: this Jack was clearly still working for the Time Agency, and obviously still had his memory in tact. He was a man hardened by a corrupt system, not the flirtatious charmer that they had traveled with. "Your ship's been confiscated by the Time Agency for study."

"_Confiscated_?" the Doctor repeated, a sharp edge in his voice. "What gives _you_ the right to confiscate my ship? And how do you even know it's a ship?"

Jack smiled coldly. "You might be surprised at how much we know about you, Doctor _Smith_." He swiveled around in his chair, and began flipping switches and pressing buttons. The door shut behind them, locking with a sharp snap. "According to the Torchwood bylaws put into place in 1879, old Earth years, any unidentifiable alien technology is to be confiscated and dismantled in order to further Earth's own technology. Further, any unidentifiable alien species is to be apprehended and questioned." Jack swiveled back around in his chair and smiled warmly at Rose. "Sorry, sweetheart. You're human, I know, but you know him and we're going to need to question you, too."

Rose smiled back coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can question me all you like, but if you think I'm gonna tell you anything after you just _kidnapped _us, you've got another think comin'."

"_Bloody_ humans," the Doctor growled. Jack swiveled back around in his chair, starting the ship up. The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the controls. Whatever he did caused a small explosion and resulted in sparks flying from the panel. "You think you can just take whatever you want. The whole universe belongs to you. Anything you come across is up for grabs, especially when you don't understand it." He turned toward the door, running the sonic screwdriver around the edge.

"Hold it right there," Jack commanded. They both turned to see him standing, pointing a gun directly at the Doctor's chest. "According to section 8 of the Shadow Proclamation, I order you to stand down and surrender your weapon or I will shoot."

"Rose, get behind me," the Doctor whispered, pulling on her arm.

"But-"

"Don't argue with me, Rose," he snapped. "Just get behind me. I can regenerate. You can't." Rose hesitated, but with the Doctor's insistent pulling at her arm she reluctantly acquiesced. "Weapon?" he asked innocently, raising his voice so Jack could hear. "You mean this?" He held up the sonic screwdriver, chuckling. "Oh, this is completely harmless. Only good for opening doors. And sabotage." He pointed to the controls above Jack's head and more sparks flew.

Jack didn't hesitate. A shot rang out and before Rose understood what was happening, the Doctor collapsed in front of her, a small dart sticking out of his neck.

"Doctor!" Rose cried. She dropped to the ground, kneeling over him. She pulled the dart out of his neck and lowered her head to first the left side of his chest, then the right. Both hearts seemed to be working just fine. His breathing appeared normal. He was unconscious, but otherwise all right.

Rose glanced up to see that Jack had turned his back to try and fix whatever controls he could. She grabbed the sonic screwdriver from the Doctor's limp grip and scrambled to her feet, pointing the it at the controls. "What did you do to him?" she demanded.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, then back at the controls, unconcerned at the situation. He shrugged. "Just a tranquilizer dart. He'll be awake in a few hours." He looked back at her again. "Do you even know how to use that thing?" he asked, eyeing her dubiously.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. In truth, she only knew a few of the settings, but she _did _know that to get it to work, you need only point it and push the switch. She was certain that she could do some damage with the current setting. Now that she had his attention, though, she wasn't sure what exactly to do. The Doctor was usually the one with the plan, but he was currently preoccupied, lying on the floor at her feet, and even drooling a bit. Rose shifted her weight uncertainly, still pointing the sonic screwdriver at the controls.

Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "You maybe want to put that down?"

"No!" Rose exclaimed. "I'm the one who'll be asking the questions. Now. . . ." She tried to think: what would the Doctor do? "Wh-what did you do with the TARDIS?"

"I told you-"

"Yeah, I got that," Rose snapped, "but where is it?"

Jack sighed. "I sent it ahead to the Time Agency on Earth."

"Well, bring it back!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

He sighed again and leaned forward on his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. "I don't have that kind of clearance," he answered. "Besides, once something goes in, it never comes out again."

Rose froze, a puzzled look crossing her features. "What d'you mean?"

"I told you, we dismantle all unknown alien technology. We strip it down, study how it works and try to harness it. It'll be ripped apart and they'll try to build copies based on that technology."

Rose was horrified. The TARDIS was a sentient creature, alive in ways that not even the Doctor knew. They couldn't tear her apart, strip her down for parts. And anyway, the Doctor had told her that TARDISes weren't even built; they were grown, though how they grew, Rose had no idea. Only one thought reassured her: "You'll never be able to do that. That ship has her own defenses, and she knows how to use them. You'll never be able to get inside or tear her apart from the outside, not without the Doctor's help, and he would die before helping you."

Jack shrugged again. "Then they'll just store it. Keep it around until a time when they might be able to study it." He hesitated, then said, "You talk about it like it's alive. Like it can think."

She nodded slowly. "She's. . . . It's hard to explain, but she is alive. Sort of. She's sentient." Rose slowly lowered the sonic screwdriver. This was still Jack, even if he was still working for the Time Agency. Rose had to believe that the man she had known – the man who had caught her as she fell from a barrage balloon, who had saved her and the Doctor's lives first from the poor child turned into a gas-masked zombie, then a German bomb, and finally an army of daleks, sacrificing himself in the process – was in there somewhere. "You have to help us. I know you work for them, but you can't agree with tearing apart a living creature, even if she _is _a machine. Please."

Jack shook his head. "I can't."

"Please," Rose begged. "Just take us there. You don't have to do anything else. Just take us there and we won't ask for anything else from you. Please."

Jack silently studied Rose for a few minutes. With those few moments, Rose felt her heart sink, certain he was going to refuse. That he wasn't anything close to the Jack she had known. He was going to turn them in, she just knew it.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll take you, but that's it. I'm not going to go on a suicide mission with you. And if you get caught, don't expect any help from me." He turned back to the controls, his brow furrowed as he tried to fix the damage the Doctor had done.

Rose sighed in relief. "Thank you," she said, but Jack didn't respond.

Rose dropped back down to her knees, leaning over the Doctor. His hearts and breathing still seemed normal, and Rose sat back, unsure what to do. She glanced at the cot, then at Jack, before grabbing the Doctor from behind, wrapping her arms around his chest, and trying to hoist him up onto the cot. This proved more difficult that she thought, however, as she realized that, though the Doctor _was_ fairly scrawny, he weighed much more than he looked, at least as dead weight.

Rose heard a sigh, then the creaking of a chair. She looked up to see Jack approaching her. "Here," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let me help."

Rose moved over to let Jack take her place at the Doctor's torso. She grabbed his feet and they lifted him together, placing him on the cot gently. She perched on the side of the cot, leaning over him. She bit her lip as she studied his expressionless face, normally so alive with emotion and energy bubbling out of him. Rose lifted her hand to his face, brushing his wild hair back tenderly. Her hand came to rest on the side of his head, her thumb gently rubbing his cheek.

"So. . . ." Jack started. Rose glanced up to see he had moved back by the control panel and was working on rewiring some of the controls. "You and him?" She looked back down to the Doctor, unsure of what to say. When Rose didn't answer Jack continued hesitantly, "I sort of . . . get the feeling you're not just 'travelling companions'."

Rose was silent for a few moments, then snapped, "You just kidnapped us, shot the Doctor with a tranquilizer dart, and now you suddenly want to talk about our relationship?"

Jack chuckled. "Sorry. You're right. It's not my place."

Silence again, then, "It's just, we're gonna be here a while." Rose glanced back up. Jack had turned to look at her apologetically with a handful of wires. "He really did a number on these controls. I don't suppose you would be able to fix them with your sonic device?"

She smiled wanly. "I could. If I knew how to use it. . . . But unfortunately the Doctor's the only one who knows all the settings. I only know how to reattach barbed wire and open a locked door."

He laughed, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back against the control panel. "I kind of figured that. So, looks like we're stuck here until he wakes up in a few hours. We could sit here in an awkward silence." He looked at Rose pointedly.

Rose glared at him. "First, what did you do with the people who live here?"

"The Kripnallene? Really?" Rose just continued glaring at him. Jack sighed. "They're fine. We released an infestation of krelt in the town. They evacuated. Don't worry, no one was hurt or anything. They just can't come back until they get in a team to exterminate them. Now," he said, nodding his head expectantly.

Rose sighed, relenting. "Our relationship is . . . complicated."

"Again, figured that. Care to explain?"

"Well for one thing. . . . He's over 900 years old."

Jack's eyebrows raised and he looked the Doctor over, impressed. "He ages pretty well." Rose chuckled. "But, seriously, wow. I knew he was old, but almost a _thousand_ years? Extraordinary."

"Yeah," Rose nodded. "But that's part of the problem." She looked away, remembering the night she had met Sarah Jane. The night she'd seen her future. "He told me once, a few months ago, that forever for me isn't. . . . He told me . . . that I can spend the rest of my life with him, but . . . he can't spend the rest of his with me. And I don't know. . . ." She drifted off as tears welled up in her eyes. She reached up, wiping them away furiously. She took a deep breath and continued, "I love him _so_ _much_. So much that it _hurts_ not to touch him. It _hurts_ not to hold his hand or hug him. He's like a magnet, pulling me towards him and I can't fight it. But I don't know if I can do that to him. He's lost so much. Everything. Everyone. Everyone he's ever cared about or known. Except for me. And I want to be with him. And I'm trying so hard, because he's pushing me away, and I know that what we could have would be . . . beautiful. But every time I try to get close to him, there's a little part of me – so quiet, I can barely hear it – that wonders if I'm being selfish. If being together is going to destroy him in the end when I'm. . . . When I'm gone. Because, then, he'll be completely . . . alone."

Jack nodded, seemingly understanding Rose's babbling. "Yeah. I have no idea what to say to that."

Rose chuckled, wiping her eyes again. "Yeah, sorry."

"Except. . . ." Rose looked up into his eyes as they seemed to pierce into her. "From personal experience, it's always better to live through a broken heart, than to spend the rest of your life – and judging by what we know about the Doctor, that is a _very_ long time – wondering what could have been."


	6. Chapter 6: The Confrontation

The Doctor was surrounded by darkness. No, that wasn't entirely right. It wasn't an absence of light. He could see himself. It was more an absence of . . . anything. He was in what appeared to be a void of nothingness. He looked down, but his feet didn't seem to be standing on anything solid. He didn't know where he was. He just . . . was.

He racked his brains, trying to remember how he'd ended up here, but he had no idea. The last thing he remembered was walking through that field with Rose. What had happened?

"Oi!" a voice shouted from behind him. The Doctor turned around to see his own body walking toward him. Well, his own _old_ body. The ninth Doctor was striding toward him purposefully, leather jacket and all.

"Brilliant," the tenth Doctor muttered under his breath. _Unconscious, then. _ He forced a grin that more closely resembled a grimace. Nine stopped in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. "So. I _am _taller than you."

Nine ignored him and raised his eyebrows pointedly. "You know what I'm going to tell you."

"That I'm a stupid git for not telling Rose how I feel?" Ten answered. "Yeah, you've mentioned it a couple times."

Nine scowled at him. "And yet you still haven't done anything about it."

"And I'm not going to."

"Idiot!" Nine grunted. He shook his head. "You're too bloody _stubborn_ to admit that you need her."

Ten laughed humorlessly. "Actually, I'm not. I _know_ I need her. That's the problem."

"Why? You don't want to seem weak? Well I've got news for you," Nine spat, anger coming off him in waves. "We _are _weak. She's the only reason I lived long enough to turn into _you_. A spineless, stubborn, selfish version of what we once used to be." Hate burned in Nine's eyes. "Without her I would have destroyed myself. And here you are, turning your back on everything she ever did for us. Every sacrifice she made. Every time she challenged us unflinchingly. Every time she comforted us unquestioningly. Every time she pulled us back from the edge." He smiled cruelly. "Maybe you _don't_ deserve her."

"You think I don't remember all those things? That I don't remember what it was like to be you? _You're _the one who doesn't understand. I've been you, but you've never been me. Don't ask me to live in the past, because I won't." Ten fell silent. He put his hands in his pockets morosely.

"That's you're reasoning behind this?" Nine exclaimed disbelievingly. "You don't want to live in the past? Well, why keep her then? Why not just chuck her out with the garbage? Dump her back off with her mother? Wouldn't that be _kinder_ than keeping her when you _obviously_ don't want her."

"You don't get it!" Ten shouted, throwing his hands up. "She's going to _die_. All right? Rose is going to _die_." Silence rose between the two of them. The only sound was Ten's heavy breathing. He looked away and, finally, continued, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat. "Not necessarily tomorrow, but someday. Even if she survives the life we live, she's only got about seventy years left, if she's lucky. For her, that seems like lifetimes. For us . . . it's the blink of an eye. I can't–." His voice broke. He paused, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. "It's hard enough, the way we are now, thinking about that. I can't even begin to fathom life without her." He chuckled sadly. "We survived without her just fine for 900 years. Not even two years _with_ her and it seems like there was never any other way."

Ten looked back at Nine, rich brown eyes meeting icy blue. "If I tell her – if we take that step – I'm not going to survive her death."

Nine didn't answer for a long time. His eyes had softened slightly as he considered Ten's revelation. His eyes hardened again, however, as his voice softly pointed out: "But if you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your lives. I know I do."

That appeared to be the end of the conversation, as the surroundings began to fade out. It seemed that the tenth Doctor was waking up. But as everything blurred out, Ten could faintly see Nine shaking his head, his mouth spitting out three simple words like venom that echoed in Ten's head:

"You're a _coward_."

The Doctor groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Rose was by his side in a second. She leaned over him, her hand cupping his cheek. She smiled softly at him. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like I just regenerated," he mumbled, his eyes closing exhaustedly. A moment later they, they widened and he sprung up into a seated position. He patted his body frantically, inspecting his limbs. "I didn't, did I?" he asked, his voice panicky.

"No, it was just a tranquilizer. You're still you," Rose answered, and the Doctor relaxed. She tried to push him back down, but he resisted. "Come on, you need to rest. You hit your head pretty hard," she said sternly.

"Oh, Rose," the Doctor answered dismissively. "You know I have an extremely hard head." He swung his legs around to dangle off the edge of the cot. He glanced around the small space. "So, where's Jack?"

Rose gestured behind her at the door. "Out workin' on the exterior engines. Waiting for _you_ to wake up so you can fix all the damage you did to his ship."

The Doctor grinned at that. "That's not going to happen," he said, chuckling a bit.

"You've got to. He said he would take us to the TARDIS."

His grin faded. "You can't be serious. Rose, if I fix his ship, he's going to turn us in." He stood, grasping her shoulders. "This isn't the same charming flirt that we knew. This man doesn't _care_. About _anything._ Anything except himself. He won't hesitate to turn us over to them."

"I know," Rose said. "I know he's different. He hasn't even tried flirting with _either _of us," she pointed out.

The Doctor grinned again at that. His smile was wiped off almost instantaneously at the way Rose was looking up at him through her long eyelashes, though. She took a step closer to the Doctor, sliding a hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. His hearts began to beat faster, his mind growing fuzzy.

"But that man that we knew has to be in there somewhere, doesn't he? He's the one who gave me his word that he would take us there, and he's the one I trust."

The Doctor studied Rose for a few moments. He tucked her hair behind her ears, his hand making it's way down to the back of her neck. He sighed, acquiescing against his will. "If you're wrong. . . ."

"I'm not," she said, taking another step towards him. Her eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to meet his eyes.

He suddenly couldn't think straight. Her brown eyes had captivated him. All he could think of were the ninth Doctor's final words to him, which echoed in his head like a mantra: you're a coward you're a coward you're a coward. That was it, he realized. He was too afraid to lose her. But she wasn't even his to lose.

That was going to change. He couldn't bear the thought of her dying, and it would be excruciating when it happened, that was true. But this – the denial, the games – was excruciating in its own way, perhaps more so. He didn't want to fight his feelings any more.

"Rose," he murmured. His eyes were wide and bright with wonder, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Yes?" she whispered back, her other hand reaching up to settle on his other shoulder.

"I. . . ." he started, but he found the words caught in his throat.

One of Rose's hands found it's way into his hair. She twisted the silky strands between her fingers as she waited for him to continue. When he didn't she prompted, "What is it?"

"I. . . ." he tried again, but he just couldn't say it. ". . . I need to tell you something," he said instead. _Just do it_, the voice said, melding together the Northern accent with his own. His face flushed red as his hearts raced. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat and started again. "I–"

"Awake already?" Jack said from the doorway, loudly announcing his presence.

The Doctor jumped, springing away from Rose, who merely scowled and turned to glare at Jack. The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his side to them as if to inspect the storage cupboards lining the walls.

Jack leaned against the doorframe, smiling wryly at Rose. "Normally it takes about 2 hours for that tranquilizer to leave your system." He glanced at his wrist strap. "Only took you about 45 minutes."

"Well," the Doctor said distractedly. "I have . . . a very fast metabolism. Much more efficient than a human's." He sniffed, running a hand through his hair.

"Right."

Now that the Doctor had composed himself, he turned back to face Jack, his hands still in his pockets. "So, Rose tells me that you're going to take us to the TARDIS." His eyes narrowed as he studied Jack for any signs of deceit.

"That's right. I'll get you in secretly. But I can't promise any more than that."

The Doctor frowned, considering all the potential loopholes. "And you won't tell them we're there?"

Jack paused, considering. The Doctor glanced at Rose, who obviously hadn't thought to ask this. "No," Jack finally said. "But if they find you on your own, I can't help you."

The Doctor nodded after a few moments' careful thought. Really, this was more than he'd expected from this Jack. But there were so many ways that this could go wrong. "Why are you helping us?"

Jack shrugged. "I'm going there anyway. Might as well bring along a couple passengers. Plus. . . ." He hesitated, glancing between Rose and the Doctor. A small frown played on his lips. "I don't know. But there's something about the two of you. I feel like I . . . have to help you. Somehow."

Silence followed for a few moments until the Doctor broke it. "Well, in that case. . . ." He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and waved it at the controls he had damaged. Suddenly, the engines began to hum as the controls lit up. The Doctor grinned and tucked the screwdriver back into his jacket.

Rose and Jack gaped at him. "That was . . . fast," Jack remarked, bewildered.

"Just had to reverse the reversal I had made on the polarity of the electromagnetic field. Easy." He shrugged, then tilted his head in thought. "_Well_, easy if you've got a sonic device." He considered it some more. "_Well, _and if you're – to be quite frank – a genius."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Modesty obviously isn't a factor," she commented drily.

"Well, no," the Doctor agreed, frowning at her in puzzlement. "Why would it be? Modesty doesn't have anything to do with one's ability to reverse polarity."

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head.

Jack shut the door behind him as he strode into the ship and to the control panel. He settled into his plush chair and swiveled around, inspecting the controls. "Everything looks good," he reported. "I think we're good to go." He swiveled back around. "You have everything you need?" Rose and the Doctor nodded. "Alright, then. Initiating startup sequence," he announced, flipping more levers and pushing more buttons than Rose could count.

Rose grinned as she watched him. She was reminded immediately of the way the Doctor flew the TARDIS, whirling manically about like a madman. The biggest difference seemed to be that Jack actually looked like he knew what he was doing.

"Lift-off achieved," he stated.

Well, the biggest difference besides the fact that this ship seemed to glide effortlessly as it flew, whereas the TARDIS flew as if it was drunk, stumbling through the Time Vortex.

"Exiting Kripnallene's atmosphere." He pulled a headset on, pressing a button on the earpiece. "Control, this is Captain Jack Harkness. Requesting access to the Time Vortex. Position is 548.32/carrot, sector G543K." Whoever was on the other end must have granted access, as Jack replied, "Thank you, control. Entering vortex now."

Rose sidled next to the Doctor, her eyes widening at the swirling tunnel they had entered. "This is the Time Vortex?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder. The Doctor nodded, watching her for her reaction, just as he always did when he brought her somewhere new. "It's beautiful," she murmured, a soft smile curling her lips.

They were flying through the middle of a tunnel, the walls curling around them like a tidal wave. Or perhaps a more apt description would be what Rose imagined being in the eye of a tornado might be like. The walls rippled with all the colors she could name and more that she had never even seen. Rose caught glimpses of different times and places spotted throughout them, like debris spinning about the walls of a tornado. Inside the tunnel, Rose was surprised to see a heavy flow of traffic. Her mouth dropped open when she saw a blue police box whip past the window, bouncing off the walls of the vortex and occasionally running into other ships.

"Doctor," Rose gasped. "That was the TARDIS! How. . . ."

The Doctor was silent for a moment. "The Time Vortex is a funny place. Depending on where and when you enter, there could very well be a number of different versions of yourself flying around in here. That could have been us. But it could just as easily have been me 200 years ago or even 200 years into the future."

"Does that mean. . . ." She drifted off, glancing up at him. "Doctor, could there be other Time Lords in here?"

He didn't answer for a long while. "It's possible," he said finally, his voice strained.

"If they're still out there, why haven't you tried to find them?"

The Doctor sighed. He looked down at her wide, innocent eyes. "Rose, I've told you that time isn't linear, haven't I?" She nodded. "Right now, where I'm at in my own timeline – and where you are in yours, and Jack is in his – they're gone. But there are other versions of myself out there. I've actually even met quite a few regenerations of myself, just as you met yourself when you were a baby. Crossing timelines isn't meant to happen, but sometimes it's necessary, or even good. Other times it isn't.

"There are other Time Lords out there, Rose, living out the beginnings of their own timelines. But I can't go back to see them or talk to them. If I inadvertently change anything in their timelines that has to happen, it could completely change their future and my past twisting together a world where the Time War never happened, creating a massive paradox. The Time War has to happen, Rose, and if I ever met another Time Lord I know, without a doubt, I would try to warn them, just like you tried to save your dad."

He looked away, back out the window at the endless vortex. "I can feel them, whenever they're near. It's like a tug on my mind. That's how we always were. Connected, mind-to-mind, sharing memories. Evolution took its course and eventually, it came to be that we connected like that automatically. We learned to block any memories that were private, but that connection was always there. When I land on a planet and I feel that tug, like a magnet pulling me against my will, I leave. Immediately. Because I can't take any chances."

The Doctor fell into a mournful silence, staring out the window at the Time Vortex. Rose followed his lead, regretting ever asking him. Of course he couldn't meet them, even though they were out there. If he could, he would have done by now. He must have tried to think of a million different ways to meet them, and surely that had been one of the first.

She glanced up at him, his eyes distant, a sad expression on his features. Rose reached out, her hand finding his. Her fingers interlocked with his, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand lightly. "I'm sorry," she said when he looked down at her.

He smiled softly. "I know you are. But you don't have anything to apologize for."

Rose shook her head. "I know how lonely you are. And I'm sorry that I'm not enough. I can't make your hurt go away, no matter how badly I want to."

"Rose, you never need to apologize for that," he said vehemently. "You're more than enough. You're everything. You are absolutely . . . _everything_."

There was a lump in Rose's throat preventing her from answering. And even if it hadn't been there, she wouldn't know what to say to that except that . . . she felt the same way. He was absolutely everything. The most important thing in her life, without a doubt. Without him, there was nothing. She couldn't remember how she had lived for 19 years without him. Although, in truth, she hadn't really _lived_ until him. That life before, full of work and chips and sleep, that wasn't what she considered living at all, and she never had. She'd always been searching for a way out, a better life. And the Doctor had given her exactly that.

She cleared her throat. "Doctor, I–"

There was a sudden jolt as Jack's ship ploughed through one of the walls of the Time Vortex. The resulting jostle nearly knocked Rose off her feet. She stumbled into the Doctor, who caught her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to steady her. She smiled up at him in thanks.

"Control, this is Captain Jack Harkness, requesting permission to land." He waited, then responded, "Landing in exactly eight minutes, 14 seconds."

He covered the mouthpiece and turned his head slightly to talk to the Doctor and Rose over his shoulder. "When we land, stay on the ship for about 10 minutes after I get off. They won't search it or anything, so don't worry about being found. But once you get off, you'll be in a huge hanger full of other ships. Go through door 17 and follow that tunnel all the way to the end. After that comes the hard part.

"The tunnel's going to lead you to another hanger, but this one most likely won't be empty. It'll be full of cargo ships being loaded and unloaded. Make your way through there and find door 5. Follow that tunnel until you come to a fork. Take the left tunnel and that'll lead you to the hanger that stores all the confiscated ships. After that, it's up to you."

"Thank you, Jack," Rose said warmly.

"Don't get caught, or it'll be all of our heads," was all he said in reply.


End file.
